You did not hand me my heart back when you stopped loving me.
You unearthed it from where it had nestled into your palms for so long,
ripped out its joints,
dropped it at your feet,
and walked away.
Leaving me to come and pick it up off the ground.

But now I have it back.
It is safe in my rib cage where it belongs–
Where it will be loved.
And you will never hold it in your cold hands again.

This song is an uncannily perfect musical accompaniment to a pub scrap.


Rolling Stones 1972